On the Edge of What?
by RosiePosie91
Summary: Buffy is on the edge of a breakdown. Set in a semi-alternate S6 post Giles leaving.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note; This is my first piece of fan fiction for a long time, it takes place in season 6 of Buffy however some events (within season 6) have not occurred or have happened differently. For example, Giles has gone back to England but Tara and Willow never split up, Buffy died and was brought back, Joyce died but stayed dead. As always none of the characters belong to me and reviews are always welcomed. Enjoy.

Rosie

* * *

Buffy Summers lay curled up with her face plastered against the cold floor of the bathroom. She felt sick and the pain in her stomach was horrible – not as bad as some of the pain from injuries inflicted whilst fighting demons, vampires and the like, but still not fun. Her mouth tasted like vomit and she knew that over the past hour she had thrown up a fair bit of blood too. If she had been human she would have been very close to needing her stomach pumped but apparently being the slayer had its advantages.

"For fucksake..." she pulled herself up and vomited into the toilet, unable to hold herself straight she collapsed back onto the floor again. A small moan escaped her lips. How dumb could she be? Willow, Tara and Dawn were all asleep in their respective parts of the house, dreaming away and hopefully blissfully unaware of her current state. Why the hell did she feel the need to come home and drink? She never used to, but now she seemed to do it every night. Up until now she had stopped after a bottle of wine or part of a bottle of spirits, just enough to make her a bit tipsy, make her a little happier, take the edge off a little. Tonight had been different. Tonight something had happened and to neutralise it she had, had a lot more than she normally would have and instead of making her happier or numb to the world around her, she was hurting.

Tears began welling up in her eyes and she blinked them back angrily. She wouldn't cry damnit.

Life seemed so much harder now than what it used to. She remembered being 16 and how life had seemed so hard when she was first told that she was the slayer, Christ, even before that when she'd been a normal school girl life had been a pain at times. Since her arrival in Sunnydale she had been depressed and stressed out on numerous occasions, but now... now it just seemed all the more hopeless. She missed her Mom so much that her heart threatened to explode under the pressure. At least before when she had been sad she hadn't needed to worry about Dawn or money. Tara had been good to her, making dinner or breakfast when she needed it and keeping on top of the housework. It wasn't right though, Tara needed time with Willow and likewise for Willow. They wouldn't stay in the house forever. At some point they would decide that Buffy was strong enough to cope and leave, Giles had.

She lay there, a broken, drunk, mess of a woman, on the floor of her bathroom and all of a sudden Buffy couldn't hold it in anymore. She started shaking and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. A sob caught in her throat and she bit her hand to stop any noise from escaping. She lay there and cried until she couldn't anymore.

Somewhere through the haze of a dream she could hear a tapping noise.

"Buffy?!"

Who was talking to her? What did they want with her?

"Buffy? Are you in there? Dawn needs to brush her teeth before school. Buffy?!" The knocking continued.

* * *

Buffy snapped awake. Fuck, she hadn't meant to fall asleep. The bathroom was a mess and stunk to high heaven. She surveyed the room from a seated position then rose to her feet. There was an empty bottle of rum, a part used bottle of gin and an empty bottle of wine on the floor – she hoped that she hadn't consumed them all herself. That was when she became aware of the state of her own body. Her face was pale with the exception of a dark circle under each of her eyes, her hair was a greasy, disgusting mess and her makeup was long gone, but that was all cosmetic, easily enough fixed with a shower, a decent sleep and some good makeup. No, what really irked her was her throat which felt like someone had rubbed sandpaper down it, her stomach was killing her and she had a headache like no one's business.

"Buffy, please say something, I'm starting to get worried."

Willow's voice came through the door again. Buffy knew that she couldn't leave the bathroom like this and did the only thing that she could do.

"'I'm fine..."

Willow shot Tara a worried look across the hall, Buffy didn't sound fine. The smell coming from the bathroom was acrid and pretty strong even through the locked door. Her friend had not been acting normally in the months since she had been brought back and after her revelation that she had been dragged out of heaven Willow considered herself to blame. She had done the right thing, they'd been in a shitty situation and had chosen the right way out. It had been the right thing to do... right?

"Are you sure? Can Dawn come in and brush her teeth?"

"Ah, no, just... I'm just going to have a shower... major monstery times last night, I look like a major mess..."

Well, it wasn't a complete lie.

"Oh, ok then... Major monstery times can do that, but Buffy, what about Dawns toothbrush? If you hand it out she can just do them in the kitchen."

Oh god, that's right. Toothbrush... why couldn't Dawn just... chew gum or something. She knew that Willow wouldn't let up about it but at the same time she really didn't want her to see inside. Buffy grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste and opened the door a crack. She stuck a hand around the door and waved it – within a second the toothbrush and paste were gone from her hand which she quickly withdrew and hastily locked the door again.

"... Thanks... I'll take these down to her. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"No thanks Will, I'm good."

Yeah right.

As soon as she heard the footsteps disappear down the stairs she flushed the toilet and peeled off her filthy clothes. Within seconds Buffy was slumped in the shower under a steaming stream of water. She was fine. She was going to be fine. Everything was going to be ok; if she could make it through the next 10 minutes without vomiting.

She did, and after her shower was down to a tepid temperature – all of the hot water having been used, she turned off the shower and began to concoct a plan of attack to clean the bathroom. She wrapped a towel around herself and went downstairs to get a bucket and mop.

The cleaning didn't take long, just a quick mop, throwing away the empty bottles (stashing the half used one for later) and spraying some air freshener around the place. It looked fine, maybe even better than fine. She could still smell the vomit, but she was pretty certain that it was her that stunk not the bathroom – despite her shower. She was suddenly very tired again, she left the mop and bucket in the bathroom (empty and clean of course) and made her way to bed.

When she came to it was mid afternoon and after popping a decent dose of codeine she felt a million times better. The world seemed bright and colourful again as she floated around the house. She didn't care about anything. She sighed with happiness and left her house to walk to the Magic Box.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note; Now that uni is over for the year, here's chapter 2 – shorter than chapter 1 but will hopefully be joined by chapter 3 before the end of the day. Thanks very much to evilbuffyfan4eva, I really appreciate the review and hope that you enjoy this one :]

Rosie

* * *

The initial buzz had worn off by the time Buffy entered the Magic Box, greeted by the sound of the security bell. It always seemed so cheery, despite which baddie was flinging open the door or how grave the situation was. It was almost inappropriate, saved by the black humour. She suspected that even when the shop was finally destroyed, (face it, with the amount of near apocalypses around this place it was going to happen sometime) the bell would still ring away happily, welcoming its own demise.

"Good afternoon Buffy."

Anya strode past her, arms full of... what the hell?

"Hi Anya... what... are those?"

"These? They're Churago Demon Eggs – the latest craze, I can't restock them fast enough! Isn't that great?!"

Anya was grinning wildly, she was so suited to the retail world that Buffy could hardly believe that she'd ever been a man murdering vengeance demon. _Well... maybe it's not so different..._

Buffy aimed her best "I'm concerned and slightly confused" face at Anya.

"Are they going to hatch and leave us with an infestation? 'Cos I'm not really down for that."

"Oh no, don't worry, they're as harmless as hens eggs – they're never going to hatch, just good for spells, or cooking. They make pretty good souvenirs as well – until they start smelling anyway."

_Cooking. Really? Whatever._

"That's great Anya, where is everyone? I was expecting them to be here."

Buffy cast her eye around the empty shop, at the very least she had thought that Giles or Willow might be there... but of course Giles wasn't even in America was he. She missed him, his accent, and general stuffiness most of the time but damn it sucked when his absence was made all the more obvious. Not to mention that thinking about Giles always got her thinking about Joyce... Now was so not the time for that.

"I don't know about the others but Xander is at work getting hot and sweaty..."

She trailed off and Buffy felt a little ill, this was mild for Anya but Xander had been her friend since high school and it was just wrong to think of him as a guy, let alone a guy with an active love life and nympho fiancé. Ick.

"Ok, that's great. We'll just leave that one there shall we? If anyone shows up and needs me to save the world or anything, I'll be out the back training."

* * *

No one showed up over the following hours and Buffy eventually left at 3, meaning to catch up with Dawn on her way home from school. Sisterly bonding, there wasn't often time for it and she was concerned that Dawns kleptomania stemmed from her not having a family as such. Sure, she had the Scooby gang, but a bunch of people in their early 20's (with some notable exceptions) who were sometimes around when their own lives allowed them, are a lot different to having a Mum who worries about you and makes you dinner every night. No matter how much they all tried, they could never match the presence that Joyce was meant to have had in Dawns life. They just couldn't, and it really upset her.

Joyce was also meant to have had a longer part in her own life, damnit.

Up until Joyce's diagnosis and even after, Buffy had always been concerned about how her Mom would cope when she died. Slayers weren't meant to outlive their mothers, they weren't really meant to outlive anything except a few baddies. Yet here she was. Living the dream.

She eventually caught up with Dawn on the final leg of the journey, as they rounded the last corner before home. Her little sister was chipper, the thievery ignored and almost forgotten, and the animated banter was totally genuine.

"...and so Jake totally asked her out, in front of the whole maths class! He got in so much trouble for it and the worst part is that she doesn't even like him! Can you believe that? I would just want to die..."

Dawn carried on while Buffy stared into nothingness and threw in the odd "mm" or "oh!"

When they got to the letterbox the bright young girl turned to the older one.

"Buffy, are you actually ok? You seem really... I dunno, like... on edge? Or sad? Honestly, please tell me. I know that I'm just a little kid but I'm actually not anymore. You really can talk to me, I want you to talk to me."

"Thanks Dawnie, I'm really fine though. Anyway, don't you have some homework to do?"

Dawn stared at her strangely.

"Fine, but if you won't talk to me then you need to talk to someone else. My guidance counsellor said that she could recommend a good shrink for you."

"Dawn! Don't you dare talk about me at school – do you know what will happen if she tells the social services woman? Seriously, don't you ever think?! ... Look, I'm fine. Can you please just go and do your homework?"

"I'm sorry... I do worry about you though..."

With that, Dawn quickly crossed the threshold of the house and ascended the stairs while Buffy remained standing on the veranda for a moment.

* * *

Later that night the Slayer set out on patrol. Her high heels, cute top, leather jacket and tight jeans wouldn't have looked out of place at the Bronze but that's how she liked it. It wasn't like she had to worry about getting jumped by a horny drunk, she was able to look after herself a lot better than most. Physically anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note; Here's chapter 3 as promised. I quite like this chapter and it's a little longer than the others. I seem to be on a bit of a roll so stand by for chapter 4. I hate asking for reviews, but please leave them. I love hearing what people think of my writing and it provides what is sometimes much needed motivation.

Thanks heaps,

Rosie

* * *

As Buffy began her sweep of an area near the Bronze, her eye was drawn to a group of people surrounding a man who leaning into a woman who was cowering on the bonnet of a car. Then he hit her. Buffy stood for a second in horror as the man (she could tell that he wasn't a vampire) laid into his girlfriend, why would anyone do that? She couldn't understand it and after the third punch landed she was already behind him. Buffy grabbed him and he spun around, immediately laying in to her with punches and words. His friends started circling and one of them kicked her in the back of her knee, causing it to go weak for a second.

Fuck This

Buffy threw a punch at the main guy, not as hard as she could – he was a douche bag but she didn't want the guilt of having killed a human, but she misjudged. Her punch lightly touched him, he was going to have a pretty nasty bruise in the morning but that was all.

"Don't you touch my boyfriend, you slut!"

All of a sudden the girlfriend (ah, so her guess had been correct) joined the group of guys surrounding Buffy and started going for it as well. This was so unfair, why the fuck had she even bothered to get involved? No good deed goes unpunished...

Just as she was going to start fighting back in earnest, (she had to, seven people all drunk, high, and massively pissed off against one was a little unfair – even when that one was her) she felt the presence of a vampire getting closer, closer. Then she heard the scream of pain, following the vampire's single punch. Fuck, Spike, great. Just who she wanted to see when she was getting the crap kicked out of her by a punch of drugged up humans. Sweet deal.

She fought off her attackers in a couple of seconds and stormed off to continue her sweep.

* * *

Spike caught up with her a short time later.

"What the hell was that?!"

"What was what Spike?"

The peroxide blonde vampire was clearly pissed off, she could feel it radiating off him and she couldn't really blame him. She didn't know what had just happened back there.

"You know what's what. I head down here on my way to Willies and all I can see is you getting beaten up by a group of humans. What the hell?! So I rush up thinking that they're demons or something, chip knocks my socks off and you're casually heading off up the road, not even looking to see if I'm ok. Well that's fucking nice ain't it."

He was glaring at her waiting for a response. She didn't have one.

"I'm sorry, I thought that you could take care of yourself – obviously I was wrong."

"Hey! That's not fair!... I think that there's something wrong with you luv."

_Yes, there's something wrong with me. Something is very, very wrong with me and I hate it so much._

She rolled her eyes.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with _me_, I'm fine – you're the one problem, probably been sober for too long and you were wigging out, seeing things on you're way to the pub. Just go and get a drink Spike. I'll be perfectly fine once I stop interfering in domestics."

Spike grabbed her, spun her around, and held her, one of his hands on each of her arms. He looked deep into her eyes, searching. She turned her head away and closed her eyes.

He shook her.

"Look at me."

She shook her head. His grip tightened.

"Spike, just leave me alone ok. Please? I just want to finish patrol and go home."

He tightened his grip even more. Then, out of nowhere, he released it but grabbed her hand and started off. He dragged her down several side streets, despite her verbal protests and weak attempts to pull herself free. He remained silent until he grabbed her again and pushed her up to a shop window that had a full length mirror in it. He held her there.

"Take a good look luv."

She stood there, staring in to the mirror. Her reflection stared back unforgiving. Besides her hair being a bit messy, she noticed that her jeans were a little torn and her top was falling apart. She had scratches, and a lot of bruises that were already healing but...

"How could you let some pathetic humans do this to you? You've taken less damage from almost every monster you've ever fought. When I saw you tonight... it looked like you were enjoying being hurt."

Spike let go of her and Buffy immediately began walking away, the tears trickling down her cheeks.

He called out.

"There's something wrong with you luv, whether or not you want to admit it."

* * *

On her way home, Buffy stopped by the 24hr liquor shop and bought a bottle of wine and one of vodka. By the time she got to her driveway she'd drunk a third of the vodka already and she almost laughed when she said in a mocking sort of way.

"Drink vodka, problem kaput ja."

There was a light on in her house, the lounge light. Who'd still be awake at this time of night? She crept up and peered through the window. Spike and Willow were talking in the lounge, serious faces, hushed tones. Oh for fucksake. She hid her booze in her bag and went through the front door.

Instantly the whispering in the next room stopped. Buffy didn't. She walked quickly up the stairs and locked herself in her room.

The first thing she did was examine her clothes, she was actually a little pissed off about the damage they'd sustained. It wasn't like she had much money to begin with and with what little extra there was she was buying booze, no, she wasn't happy about her clothes. On a brighter note, the physical damage that she'd sustained was all but gone. Good.

She grabbed her bottle of wine, popped the cork out of the window and sculled back half of it before burping. Cheap white bubbly was her happy bubbly drink, but it was better with vodka. Buffy shook the excess bubbles out of the wine and poured the vodka into the bottle, put her hand over the opening, and swished it around to mix it in. She took a swig. Not bad. She turned out her light and curled up on top of her bed, every so often raising her head high enough to sip from the bottle.

The alcohol and world pushed her down into the mattress. She welcomed it. The familiar, pleasant blurriness filled her body. She finished the wine bottle, the vodka and her gin from the previous night, she smiled as she lay on her bed. She noticed that time had no meaning to her when she was like this. Curiosity got the better of her and she turned over to look at the clock. 20 minutes had passed since she had first entered her room. It was kind of mind blowing. She dry swallowed a couple of valium and the world slipped away.

* * *

"Oh God."

Buffy snapped to consciousness and saw Xander standing in her doorway.

"I'm sorry, I was just picking Dawn up and I came to see how you were. I'm sorry..."

He turned away. At that point Buffy became aware of the fact that at some point during the night she'd burned up and stripped down to her underwear in order to sleep... and all of the incriminating evidence of her bender the previous night which still surrounded her.

"Xander, can you please just shut my door?"

* * *

Xander put his hand up covering his eyes and did what she asked. Man, she seemed really pissed off. He sincerely hoped that she wasn't. There had been a time when he would have paid to see her in her underwear but today when he saw her, she wasn't sexy or hot, although she was beautiful. What struck him about her had nothing to do with her near nudity. She was sad. The sadness that filled her and her room was almost touchable.

He loved her, not like he loved Anya but as much as you could love a friend. What Willow had told him earlier about what her and Spike had talked about the previous night it had concerned him. He didn't like Spike, and he didn't trust him at all, but he didn't think that the vampire would lie about that.

Buffy had been acting really weird since she had been brought back and at first he had ignored it, they all had. She just needed some time to readjust. Didn't she? He sincerely hoped that he hadn't ignored anything serious. The alcohol bottles had been as blatantly obvious as her naked body. Surely she wouldn't be doing anything harder than that? He hoped that Buffy would snap out of it and although he wasn't religious, he prayed that it would be soon.

"Alright, hurry up Dawn, we gotta get you to school!"

* * *

How had her door just opened? Hadn't she locked it? She needed to be more careful. She was just lucky that it hadn't been Dawn. Oh god, imagine if it had been.

No.

She couldn't let that happen. Dawn didn't deserve that. She couldn't do this at home anymore. That was too close.

Buffy picked herself up off her bed and put her dressing gown on. The clean up wasn't so bad this morning, just a couple of bottles. Less vomit.

She sighed.

By the time she was showered, dressed and made up she was the only person left in the house. Everyone else had left to continue their own lives. She didn't fit in to any of their external lives, only into their secret, Scooby gang lives. She didn't have a life where she wasn't the slayer. She'd had a life when she was in high school, even in college, in fact, college had been great because it was less petty than high school and the guys were hotter. Those lives didn't exist anymore. There was just her, this house, and death. Fabulous.

She took another couple of valium and went back to bed.


End file.
